Love Me Green
by La Morraine
Summary: Tony's been gaining weight over the years, and it's finally starting to catch up with him. In order to save his career, he sets out to reboot his health and recover his confidence in himself. Surprisingly, defecting to the green side does more than that ... it allows Tony to reverse roles and be the intriguing one for a change. And Gibbs certainly is intrigued. m/m, Tibbs
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **All recognizable parts belong to the TV sries Navy CIS and its respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended. All the remaining people, locales and events are either invented by the author or used fictitiously. The advice given by the doctors in this story are in _no way_ intended as real medical advice. If you've got health issues, please go see your doctor or health practitioner.

**A/N: **Right now I'm doing the NaNoWriMo, and this is something to clear my head and cool my heels. The idea for this story has been bugging me for a long time and I hope that the topic won't scare all of you readers off :) To give **fair warning**: the chapters will be short and unbetaed, and in the beginning they'll be very Tony-centric. Also, this is my take on Tony gaining weight in later seasons, and how he's coping with that. If that's not your cup of tea, please don't flame. You have been warned.

**Tags: **m/m themes, health issues, healthy eating and living, self-discovery, friendship, love

* * *

**Love Me Green**

**Part 1**

"I'm sorry, Anthony, but your blood work has gotten worse over the last year, and you've gained nearly forty pounds since you started here," Ducky said and took off his latex gloves. "It's not as bad as to relegate you to mandatory gym courses, but if we take your compromised lungs into consideration, it might very well make you ineligible for field work next year, depending on the doctor who's doing your examination."

What?

"What?" Tony croaked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my boy," Ducky said and blinked at him through his glasses. "Should I have phrased that more gently?"

"No, Ducky, but I … _forty_ pounds?" Incredulous, Tony stared down at himself. His paunch stared right back. "Fuck."

"That's only about five pounds per year, it's not unusual for people not to notice when they gain it that slowly. There was that one case when I was still a student-"

Tony cut him off. "_How_ could that happen?"

"The usual way, I assume. Forgive me if my question seems stupid, but don't you have a scale at home?"

"No." Tony shook his head, still reeling.

Ducky waved Jimmy over to take the blood samples and motioned for Tony to button up his shirt. "And why is that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. My body just told me what it needed. As long as the clothes still fit, I wasn't worried."

"Ah, I understand. Unfortunately our lifestyle allows for too much ballast to weigh us down." Ducky patted his belly. "And as you can see, not even I am immune to their seduction, and I should know better."

Tony sighed. "How bad is it really? Can they put me on desk duty next year? Or rather, _will_ they?"

"Desk duty?" Jimmy asked, alarmed.

"Not yet, Mr. Palmer, not yet, but our Anthony here has just faced the first visible signs of age and good living and is a little concerned about his abilities in the field."

"Oh, yes." Jimmy gestikulated with his hands. "You have … I mean you were more, or rather, less, when I first met you."

"Thank you, autopsy gremlin," Tony said snidely, "I can see that for myself." He sighed deeply, suddenly all anger gone. "Now, at least. Damn it to hell." He jumped off the metal table and straightened his clothes.

"Not yet, DiNozzo," said Gibbs as he walked in. "You done with the fitness test, Ducky?"

"Oh, yes, you're right on time, Jethro."

"Good. Get a move on, DiNozzo! Dead marine outside of Quantico. Grab your gear!"

"Personal booty call, just great." Tony smiled weakly at Ducky. "I guess I'll take the stairs from now on, huh?"

Smiling, Ducky pumped his fist. "That's the spirit!"

**oOo**

When he finally got home, Tony got a beer from the fridge, threw himself onto his sofa and put his feet up on the couch table. He was still shaken by his examination and cursed himself for his carelessness. He'd known that he'd gotten too comfortable, too involved in this life and with the people at NCIS. It had made him lazy.

Regular TV disappointed yet again, so Tony switched to Netflix and scrolled through the movies and TV series on offer. He wasn't in the mood for action, but romance and comedy didn't turn up anything that roused his interest, either. There was, however, a movie that kept being recommended.

"_Fat, Sick And Nearly Dead_," Tony read out loud. He pulled a face before glancing at his sadly prominent belly. "Damn it."

He chose the movie, too annoyed to hunt for another, and settled back into the couch cushions.

The next two or so hours passed quickly, almost too quickly for Tony to grasp it all. He found himself eerily reminded of himself, as the film maker, Joe, described his attitude of too much work and stress and too little of the good things in life like exercise, relaxation, and good food.

Then it got interesting. As Joe changed his way of eating, his body changed as well. Tony was stunned how quickly the man lost excess fat and shed health issues left, right, and center. Then came Phil, the morbidly obese truck driver, and it got even more astonishing.

At the end of the movie, Tony sat for a moment, deliberating, before he got up, took out his trash bags and cleaned out his closets. He didn't even give himself time to think about it, he just went to the refuse chute and threw it all away.

That done, he grabbed his phone and dialled.

"Brad? Sorry for disturbing you so late, but I need a favour …"

**oOo**

On the next day, Tony sacrificed his lunch hour to visit Dr. Brad Pitt at Bethesda Hospital.

"Good to see you, Tony," Brad said affably. "I had hoped to get together soon, anyway, so this was a nice surprise. Lose the shirt and hop onto the stretcher, alright?"

"Same here. Thanks for seeing me at such short notice," Tony replied and sat a little straighter than normal as he undressed. "It's really kind of important to me."

"You're welcome." Brad took Tony's blood pressure and temperature, listened to his heart beat and tested his pressure points. "What brought this on, though? You sounded almost manic, to be honest."

"I know. It's just … I had my annual physics yesterday, and what Ducky told me wasn't good." Ruefully, he indicated his soft body. "Not a huge surprise, eh?"

A kind look came over Brad's face. "No, but don't beat yourself up about it too much. You were told to take it a bit easier, to rest a little. I know I did. And I'm guessing that you didn't change your diet accordingly. That's usually the main problem."

"Yes, my so-called _diet_," Tony growled. "I want to change that now. Better late than never and all that jazz."

"Oh, that's good." Brad prepared Tony's arm to take a blood sample. "But wouldn't Ducky be the obvious choice to help you with that?"

"Not really, no," Tony replied. "I don't want the others at NCIS to know what I plan to do, and Ducky is a blabbermouth. It'll be bad enough without their stupid comments."

"And the plan is?" Brad asked. He punctured the vein and drew a couple of vials of blood.

"I saw this movie yesterday, _Fat, Sick And Nearly Dead_, and I want to go on a juice fast."

"Seriously? Or are you having me on?" Brad grinned.

Mulishly, Tony turned down the corners of his mouth. "No. I want to do this, and I'm _going_ to do this. I have to. I feel like a fat pig. One of these days, McOstrich is going to outrun me on his stupid stork legs, and he'll never let me live it down."

Brad withdrew the needle and dabbed at the small wound. His smile, if possible, got even brighter. "This is great news, Tony. I watched that movie a couple of years back with my then-girlfriend, right when it came out. Gave me a right kick in the pants, and I've never looked back." He stepped back and motioned to Tony's shirt. "All done, you can get dressed. Your lungs sound okay, considering what you've been through, but they could be better."

Tony put his undershirt and dress shirt back on and sighed. "Do you think I can do it? Will it help with the lungs, too?"

"Definitely yes to both," Brad said without hesitation. "It may be challenging, but I actually wanted to go on a fast myself next month. Maybe we could be buddies, get through this together? Of course I'll double as your doctor and make sure everything is alright."

"You're serious?"

"Yes, of course. I love fasting, but I don't like how it's making me feel, especially during the first few days. It's good to have someone who won't take my pissiness personal." He chuckled. "Man, you're going to hate me and the whole thing before the second day is over."

"Doesn't matter. When can we start?"

Brad laughed again. "Not before you've prepared for it. It's good that you came to me, I'll check your stats and find out what you need, nutrition-wise. Your body might react very violently if you just go cold turkey. "

"Cold turkey?" Tony asked dubiously.

"You're so full of crap - sorry - that you might literally poison yourself if you detox too quickly right away." Brad took a pencil and scribbled something on a notepad. "You've got two weeks until the first of March. I want you to learn as much about this stuff as you can. Watch youtube videos, read blogs and buy books. Also, go visit your nearest Whole Foods store or whatever health store is close to your apartment. Tell them what you want to do and they'll help you pick out the things you need."

Tony read through the list and raised his eyebrows. "Shit, that's one hell of a to-do list."

"It's a steep learning curve, but well worth it."

Looking at Brad's handsome face and steely body, Tony had to agree. "Yeah, I hope so."

**End of part 1**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

After work it was almost too late to go grocery shopping. Tony managed to slip into the Whole Foods on his way home and grinned apologetically at the young woman who was manning the lone, still opened cash register.

"Be quick!" she called. "You've got ten minutes!"

"Right," Tony muttered. He looked to the long aisles of unknown products, rolled his shoulders, and marched right up to her. "Hi," he said, giving her his patented DiNozzo smile. "I need help."

She looked him over and smirked. "With what?"

"Everything." Tony handed her Brad's list and pointed at a few highlighted lines. "But especially this." When she whistled, he prompted, "Well?"

"No problem, sunshine, but that starter kit is gonna cost you a pretty penny." She offered him her hand. "I'm Cheryl, by the way. Welcome to the green side."

Tony shuddered, remembering the disgusting tofu wraps Kate had tried to get him to eat years ago. "Yeah, glad to be here."

Cheryl left her post and sauntered over to the produce section, Tony trailing after her. "Juice fasting is great, but for beginners, we generally recommend first upping their veggie and fruit intake to prepare the body for the nutrients it'll soon get. Here, take this." She grabbed a cart and dumped grapes, oranges, apples, and several kinds of vegetables into it. "Those are easy to snack on, and you don't have to watch yourself."

"Okay." Tony looked on as she threw more and more things into a shopping cart. "What about a juicer?"

"To be honest, you shouldn't buy one immediately. If you've got a friend, let them recommend one, or perhaps you could drop by when we've got a demonstration scheduled. Or, if you can't decide in the end, just support your favourite health store by buying all your beautiful juices fresh directly from our bar." She smiled impishly and dropped a packet of pistachios onto the oranges.

"I can do that. Do you make juices around half seven in the mornings?"

Cheryl looked at him, quite obviously trying to find out what he did for a living and why he needed to get up so early. "Not usually, no, but if you're willing to drop by every morning, I could tell my colleagues to make an exception for you. We get deliveries around that time, so someone is always here."

Tony was surprised but grateful about her readiness to help him out. "Thank you. I'll be by, then."

"And we'll be happy to have you here." She smiled. "To us, there's nothing better than to help someone who wants to do better for himself."

They went back to the cash register, where a bookshelf invited the waiting customers to take a peek.

"I should probably get one of these," Tony said and grabbed a veggie cook book. "Looks easy enough."

"You can cook?"

"Yeah, the family on my mother's side is Italian. Sounds like a cliché, but most of us really do know their way around a kitchen."

"Then you should probably try this one. It's vegan, meaning that you won't need cheese or cream in the recipes, but that's actually a good thing. Try it, there are a lot of Italian recipes in there."

Tony grabbed the book and placed it onto the belt. "Sure, why not?"

"Cool. Let me know how it works out for you." Cheryl rang up his purchases. "Before I forget, it's Gary's early shift tomorrow, but I'll tell him to expect you. What's your name?"

Tony handed her his credit card and flashed a smile. "It's Tony."

"Tony, got it. Say, are you going to eat something tonight?"

"Actually yes, I'm famished. I just got off work and could eat a cow."

Smirking, she replied, "Please don't. I've got a couple of sandwiches left. I can sell them at a discount price."

Tony shrugged. "As long as they're edible …"

"You'll like them, but more importantly, I don't have to throw them out. I hate wasting food, don't you?"

Guiltily, Tony thought about all the times he had thrown away food, even if it had been mostly junk food at the time. "With these prices, I soon will," he said, only half joking.

But Cheryl wasn't offended. "Good. Realizing the value of good food is a very important step." She stepped away from the cash register and took out a couple of sandwiches from an almost empty to-go deli fridge. "Falafel and Tofu okay?"

"Tofu?" Tony grimaced. "I'd rather not, thanks."

"Tried it once and got burned, huh? Here, try it and if you don't like it, you don't have to pay for it." She unwrapped it and handed it over to him.

Tony looked at the sandwich. It was packed with salad, dried tomatoes, some sort of sauce and two thin slices of what he assumed was the tofu. It almost looked like meat, however, and so he brought himself to bite down and chew.

"Huh," he mumbled. "'s not so bad."

Cheryl smirked. "I knew it." She rang the sandwiches up as well and relieved Tony of his pocket change.

"Seven dollars well spent," he commented and licked his fingers. "I'll definitely be back."

"That's our evil plan. Bye, Tony, and have a good night."

He hefted the paper bag full of produce onto his hip, waved, and sauntered out of the store.

**oOo**

The next morning, Tony got up early, took a long shower and dressed with unusual cheer. His excess weight still bothered him, but now that he knew that it would be gone sooner or later, he managed to look at it with more tolerance.

At the store, he met Gary and struck up an instant friendship. The guy took one look at Tony and made him a huge, green juice that looked like Hulk in a paper cup.

"You can actually drink that?" Tony asked dubiously.

"It's got apples in it," Gary said as if that explained everything. "That stuff is better than coffee, believe me."

"Alright." Tony took a sip. "Mmh, not bad at all."

"We've also got fresh sandwiches. Cheryl told me that you might want to take a couple to work."

"Why not?" Tony chose two and a small portion of hummus for his sliced vegetable sticks and then paid for everything. "Thanks, I appreciate what you're doing for me."

"You're not the only early bird," Gary said, grinning lazily. "But I might need a mean green myself to stay awake."

On his way to work, Tony swallowed down his juice and a pint of water. He wasn't late, but Gibbs was already there for a change and told him to gas up the truck. At his barked, "The marine's wife was found dead, where are McGee and Ziva?" Tony just knew that it would be yet another long day.

**oOo**

After work, Tony stopped at Whole Foods to grab another juice and a few things for the casserole he planned on making. Cheryl had the late shift again and greeted him like an old friend.

"Tony!" she chirped. "You look horrible! What can I do for you?"

"Charming," he smirked. "Just a juice. I'll get the rest myself."

"Which one?"

"I don't care. Surprise me."

While she was manning the juicer, Tony got garlic, canned tomatoes, eggplant and zucchini. He manfully went by the meat section without buying the steak that winked at him, but grabbed the last ciabatta bread on display and a bottle of his favourite olive oil.

"Here you go," Cheryl said and handed him the cup. "It's a classic, just celery, apple and carrot. You don't want to go overboard on the green stuff just yet, believe me."

"Yeah, I noticed. Your friend could've told me that the stuff cleans out the inside." He smiled half-heartedly and Cheryl laughed.

They finished their transaction and Tony headed home. It was past nine and he really wanted that casserole. While he cooked, he called Brad and put him on loudspeaker.

"How was your first day?" the doctor asked.

"Not too bad. The Whole Foods staff is very helpful. And they've got great sandwiches."

Brad chuckled. "Yes, but don't let them lull you into stopping by for every little thing. It's important to do this independently. You're doing it for yourself, not them."

"Yeah, I understand." Tony threw a handful of chopped onions and garlic into his hot, oiled pan and stirred. "I'm going to look up how to prepare for the fast after dinner."

"Well, it'll help to cut out meat and dairy, since the body needs a lot of time to digest both. Not right away, but gradually until the fast starts. You think you can do that?"

Tony sighed. "I don't know. I didn't have any meat today, actually, and I kind of feel hungry."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it. It's just the feeling of not carrying a stone around in your gut. In fact, if you want to know why milk and meat isn't good for you, watch _Forks over Knives_ tonight. It's a good movie, especially for laymen who want to grasp the important facts quickly."

Tony hummed agreeably. "John Wayne can wait for another day."

They rang off and Tony put the casserole into the oven. While it baked, he let the first half of the movie play and as Brad had promised, it worked its magic.

During the second half, he sternly looked at the melted mozarella on his plate. "You and I, we need to break up," he said. "At least for a little while."

The mozzarella didn't argue.

**End of part 2**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Wow, thank you for all your kind reviews and the follows and favos this story has received so far. I honestly didn't think so many readers would be interested in a "health story", but since this topic is important to me, I'm very happy :) Thanks again for reading and reviewing, I appreciate all of your comments and hope to keep you entertained. And now on to ...

* * *

**Part 3**

A week later, Tony noticed that he didn't feel quite so slow anymore. His morning juices woke him up nicely and he was quickly able to ditch the coffee addiction he had picked up during his brief stint as team leader. Green tea was his drug of choice when he needed to be extra alert, but other than that, he found that he actually thrived on clear water. No, he was not sorry to see the sticky coffee specialities and sodas go, and with them his tender stomach.

McGee and Ziva didn't notice anything unusual about his behaviour, knowing that he hated coffee, and since Brad had advised him to take at least one week off for the start of his fast, he decided to play it safe and filed for the whole two weeks his fast was supposed to last. It wasn't as if he did not have more than thirty vacation days racked up from previous years. If anything, Vance would be happy to finally see them go.

"You going somewhere?" Gibbs asked as he signed the form. His ever-inquiring gaze roamed over Tony. "Is it time for Spring Break already?"

"Something like that," he lied easily and smiled. "Can't keep the ladies waiting, can I?"

"Damn. Why didn't _I_ think of taking vacation time?" McGee wondered and furrowed his brow. "It's my turn, after all."

Tony grabbed the form before Gibbs could change his mind and looked down his nose at McGee. "Well, maybe you're getting old, McLadykiller. But if it's any consolation, you wouldn't be very popular, anyway."

"Why?" the other man asked, confused and a little affronted.

Ziva decided to chip in. "They can feel that you're hunting for keepers, and that's really uncool when you're on a sex party, no?"

Tony opened his mouth to correct her, but changed his mind and simply strode back to his desk. "Yes, exactly." He bared his teeth in his most obnoxious smile. "Our Tiny Tim here is simply too noble for Spring Break."

Gibbs smirked but wisely kept out of the ensuing argument. A bit later they were called out and the issue of Tony's holiday was quickly forgotten.

**oOo**

The first day of Tony's juice fast actually went very well. He got up in the morning, bought his customary cup of juice and then went for a run in the park. It was chilly, so only the die hards were out and about, but he liked it that way. Afterwards, he made himself a large, nutrient rich raspberry and apple juice and cheated with a large dollop of coconut milk. Wasting the afternoon trolling the internet for inspirational testimonials as Brad had suggested was more fun than he had expected, especially since so many pretty girls were involved.

On the second day, he crashed and burned spectacularly. Tony barely made it out of bed and to the loo, he felt so sick. Brad had warned him that this could, and probably would, happen, but Tony hadn't quite believed him - until now. His eyes were red and his throat itchy and raw, and his stomach couldn't decide between feeling squeamish and ravenous.

"Good lord," his friend said after he had listened to Tony's croaked complaints. "You've got a serious case of detox going on. Drink lots of water and hot tea and stay away from the juice if you're not hungry, okay? I'll come by later and bring something to help speed the process along. Hang in there."

Tony groaned and hung up the phone. He wallowed in bed until Brad arrived and forced him to take a shower. After that, he was made to sit on the couch and soak his feet in magnesium chloride water.

"It's good for you," Brad said and cheerfully helped himself to a glass of freshly pressed carrot-and-apple juice. "Your stats showed that you're deficient in just about every important nutrient. I brought you a bottle of vitamin D3 pills and another with magnesium supplements. Just take them as instructed and you should be fine soon."

"Can I wait until this detox thing is over?" Tony whimpered.

"Yes, of course." Brad settled down next to him and patted his shoulder. "What are we watching?"

"Is Magnum okay?"

"Sure," Brad slurped down his juice. "It's been ages. We should do a marathon."

"You always know what to say to make me happy, Dr. Pitt." Tony smirked and then leaned back and turned up the volume a little. "Now, if only you'd brought me some chocolates …"

"Over my dead body, DiNozzo."

**oOo**

After three days, all the flu-like detox symptons were gone and Tony felt well enough to venture outside again. In fact, he felt better than he had in ages, lighter and happier. Brad dragged him all over town, introducing many juice bars to him and showing him restaurants where he could get delicious vegetarian and vegan fare once the fast was over. He also convinced Tony to sign up for a yoga class and make his runs longer but less strenuous than they were right now.

Having nothing better to do, Tony took him up on his advice and exercised more in one week than he had during the last couple of months. Despite not eating, he felt surprisingly fit and even a bit clearer mentally. Still, not being able to buy a burger and wolf it down was hard. Scents got progressively stronger and more enticing, as did the vibrancy of food colours. Some days it really was a battle of wills that Tony only won because his vanity was bigger than his appetite.

Despite these stumbling blocks, his progress continued in leaps and bounds over the next days. He was glad about not having a scale at home - and for Brad's advice of keeping it that way - because he was fairly sure that he would obsessively check his weight every couple of hours, now that some of his clothes started to hang off him.

"You're going for healthy, not skinny," his friend had said, and after a second's thought Tony couldn't agree more with him.

**oOo**

During the second week, Tony was mostly on his own since Brad had to go to a conference in L.A. He missed his buddy's uplifting presence but went through his daily regimen regardless, chugged down juice and water religiously and became fast friends with the women in his new yoga group.

At the end of the two weeks, he and Brad visited via Skype and laughed about their appearance.

"You're glowing, Tony," Brad smirked. "Well done, the women will love you. How's the girth?"

"Almost five inches down, can you believe it? And you're looking more like a freaking film star than ever. How're the ladies in L.A. not swooning?"

"Oh, they are swooning, at least the ones that aren't doctors. Though I've met quite a few hot naturopaths to whom I wouldn't mind showing my juicer …"

They high-fived each other virtually and grinned like loons.

Brad sobered enough to ask, "Hey, what do you say to Japanese to break our fast? Just some miso soup, a little rice and steamed veggies to get going again?"

"Sounds heavenly. I think I forgot how to eat."

"Nah, not in 14 days. Drink your dinner, I'll check up on you as soon as I'm back in town. Oh, and you might want to check out the book _Wheat Belly_ now that you're ready to really change your eating habits. There are a few nasty surprises hidden in those bagels."

"Yes, doctor." Tony jauntily saluted him. "Fly safe."

**oOo**

That first bite of real food was heavenly. Tony didn't wait for Brad to pick him up for dinner on Tuesday to break his fast, at least not exactly. He had a couple of grapes and a small clementine that afternoon and nearly caved at the offer of a chocolate muffin Cynthia brought over to celebrate her birthday. How he had managed to hide all Monday and this morning that he wasn't eating he would never know, but then again their current case might well have something to do with it. A dead, half fish-eaten gunny in a lake would put most anyone off their lunch, after all.

In the end there was so much material to process that Tony had to tell his dinner date that he would be one hour late. Brad surprised him by simply coming up to the bullpen and greeting the others casually.

"Hey, wow, Skype didn't do you justice," Tony joked upon seeing him.

Brad winked, even as his gaze halted at Tony's belly. "Thanks. You okay? You all look very busy."

"Yeah, it's a messy murder mystery," Tony replied. "But we've seen worse. Let me just type this up and we can go."

Ziva eyed the newcomer with interest. Twirling a lock of hair around her finger, she got up from her chair, sauntered up to Brad, and purred, "Hello, I don't think we have met. I'm Ziva David, Tony's colleague. And _you_ are?"

Brad laughed. "My name is Brad Pitt, like the movie star, but unfortunately that's where the similarities end." They shook hands. After that, he waved at Gibbs and McGee. "Hello. It's good to see you again."

"Long time no see," Gibbs replied. He took his reading glasses off and gave Brad a short once-over. "How's work at Bethesda? Any more cases of the plague?"

"Thankfully no. We have had more problems with deadly viruses lately. Apparently both terrorists and our government think that working with biotech weapons is a good idea."

"Sounds interesting, Dr. Pitt. I'd like to hear more about it," Ziva declared and smiled in her typical, provocative way. "Maybe we could join you for a drink?"

"Sorry, Zee-vaah, but this is a boys only kind of date," Tony drawled and hit the enter key particularly hard. "Get your own doctor to buy you dinner."

Brad huffed a small laugh, and even Gibbs had to chuckle about his petulant tone of voice.

"That was very rude, Tony," Ziva snapped and folded her arms across her chest. "I just thought more were the merriest."

"Actually it's the more the merrier," McGee smugly butted in after Tony didn't say anything first.

"Yes! I meant that, McGee. _Thank you_."

McGee shrank behind his monitor until Ziva had retreated behind her own desk.

Tony hit the print button and then stapled his report together. "I'm finished, boss. If there's nothing else, I'll be gone. You come clear with the probies without me, right?" At Gibbs's withering look, he muttered, "Right."

A couple of minutes later they stood in the elevator and Brad frowned at Tony. "Are they always like this with you?"

Tony shrugged. "Depends on their mood, I guess. Gibbs really just isn't one for niceties. You get used to it eventually."

"Yes, I remember."

Glancing at Brad, Tony said apologetically, "Let's just hope that they won't follow us tonight. I'm not sure how much of Ziva's attitude I can take."

Brad laughed out loud. "Don't worry. I've got enough cash on me, we definitely won't be leaving a money trail. And now tell me why you decided to stuff your shirt."

Laughing, Tony patted his artificially soft belly. "Oh, this. I didn't want them to know when it's all still new. It was bad enough to have Abby on my case, I didn't want the others to join in."

Brad cocked his head. "One of these days you should really tell me what's going on with your team. It doesn't sound healthy, to be honest."

"One of these days," Tony promised, "but let's break the fast first, please."

**End of part 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews. They motivate me so much that the story almost seems to write itself. And since the NaNoWriMo is over and I won AND got a couple of chapters ahead already, here is the next for you. Hope you like it!

Btw, since a few people have asked, yes, all the movies and books in this story are real. In fact, if you're looking for a healthier lifestyle, I recommend taking a peek. From my own experience I can honestly say that yes, cutting out certain things does bring wonderful results :)

* * *

**Part 4**

After dinner, which had to be one of the most delicious meals Tony had eaten in a long time, and an equally good, inspiring conversation, Brad invited him over to his place to watch _Earthlings_.

"I feel flattered that you're interested, but you don't have to watch it now, you know," he cautioned as they set a carafe with water and two glasses with lemon slices onto the couch table. "It's not an easy film. There might be a game on somewhere if you'd rather just relax."

But Tony shook his head. "I think I have to. _Forks Over Knives_ was great and I get why I shouldn't eat meat and dairy here," he pointed at his temple, "but I need to get this stuff _here_, too." He indicated his heart. "It's the Italian in me."

"Alright. And thank you. But I mean it: if you want to stop, we stop. You're not weak if you do." Brad sighed. "I couldn't finish the film the first time around. And I don't mind admitting that I cried like a baby."

Disbelievingly, Tony stared at him. He couldn't for the life of him imagine his friend crying over cows and pigs. Not that he was heartless, it just wasn't something men usually did in his social circle. "That bad?"

Brad shrugged. "Humans can be monsters."

Tony sighed. "I know." He molded himself into the soft cushions of the couch. "Believe me, I do."

As it turned out, Tony couldn't finish watching the movie, either. After three quarters of an hour, he asked Brad to stop the DVD. He didn't cry, but his throat felt awfully clogged up.

"That's my reason not to eat meat," Brad said softly, breaking the oppressive silence. "The health factor is very important, too, but I just don't want to support this industry."

"Yeah." Tony rubbed his hands over his face. "Wow, this is horrible."

"Feels a bit like Alice out of Kansas, huh?" Brad handed Tony his glass of water. "The thing is, you can't stop digging. Once you get interested in eating healthy, you'll learn everything that's going on in the food industry, and most of it is bad."

"Well, I think I'm cured for the time being." Tony drank the water and sagged back into the couch. A shudder ran through him. "Yuck. Just thinking about this shit is giving me the creeps."

"Not to mention all the antibiotics they use to keep the animals from dying. Now you know why Kate was so big on her tofu wraps," Brad said and smiled a little. "I still miss her."

"Me, too," Tony muttered. "And she did look good for her age. Incredible that she was past her mid-thirties when she died … she looked not a day over thirty. To think that I used to give her a hard time about all this, and six years later I'm doing the very same thing."

"It just wasn't your time then", Brad consoled him. "Everybody is different. And women are more health conscious as a rule, anyway. It's in the genes."

"She would have been unbearable about it."

Chuckling, Brad got up. "And you probably would have deserved it. Do you want a beer? I've got non-alcoholic, too, but I, for my part, will have a Bud."

"Bring two and I'll find that game you mentioned. We've been down enough for the day."

**oOo**

By week four into his new meat- and mostly dairyless diet, Tony really began to feel the changes. For one thing, his clothes no longer fit him. There was just no way around it, the padding that had kept his team mates from snooping in his personal business would gradually have to go.

At least he didn't have to go shopping. He thanked all the deities that he had kept his things as he grew out of them, because now he had a whole new and yet familiar and beloved wardrobe to choose from. Some shirts and trousers he hadn't worn in close to three years, and yet they now fit perfectly. It was amazing, the feelings of joy, relief and new determination were so strong that he could barely stop grinning in front of his mirror.

Another was that he needed less sleep but slept better overall. In his line of work, it was a godsent.

And then there was his skin. He didn't miraculously lose all his wrinkles, but the pores were visibly smaller and he looked downright clean. The occasional outbreaks he still got, Brad assured him, were nothing more than detox symptoms that actually told him how well his body was healing itself from the inside. They would be gone soon enough, and Tony trusted his professional opinion.

It was also apparent that his skin shrunk in sync with his disappearing weight. There weren't any stretch marks on him, and not one dimple of cellulite. In fact, he found that he looked much like he had in his late twenties. A bit less wild, maybe, and less willowy due to being fully grown-up, but his silhouette was almost back to its old shape and he couldn't be happier about it.

His colleagues finally noticed that something about him was changing. Instead of ordering pizza, kebabs or burgers like he used to, Tony now brought most of his meals to work and it was inevitable that someone would finally care enough to ask.

He just had not counted on Gibbs being the first whose curiosity got the better of him.

**oOo**

"You alright, DiNozzo?" he asked during lunch time on a Thursday and looked questioningly at the gnocchi with vegan mushroom cream sauce that Tony had warmed up in the tea kitchen. His green salad got a downright distrustful glance.

"Yes, why?"

"You've lost weight, and your food. It's different. I was wondering whether you were sick and had to watch your diet or something," Gibbs said. "Ducky give you a hard time over your examination?"

"Kind of," Tony said warily. "But I'm fine. Just remembered that I can actually cook and decided to save a little money for a change."

"Huh." Gibbs pursed his lips as if that hadn't even occurred to him. He eyed the gnocchi intently before he stole one. Chewing, he said, "Not half bad, Tony."

Tony pulled the plate towards himself and smirked. "Yes, I know."

Snorting at his attitude, Gibbs sauntered back to his desk and guzzled down the remains of his coffee. A few minutes later, Ziva and McGee returned from their Subway run and hungry silence descended over their corner of the bullpen.

For the first time since changing his eating habits, Tony did not desire the junk food they were happily scarfing down.

He smiled and popped half a cherry tomato with a drop of balsamico dressing into his mouth.

**oOo**

Another month of delicious meals and curious glances from his team passed and Tony had a feeling that he would be reaching a plateau soon. He had lost nearly all of the pesky forty pounds with juicing, clean and healthy eating, and moderate exercise, but he wanted more. He wanted to lose at least five more pounds of body fat, and he wanted the muscles back that he'd proudly sported as a student. Being over forty years old, however, put a serious damper to his enthusiasm.

As with everything else, Brad was a huge help. He took the time out of his hectic schedule and spent breakfast dates and long evenings in a pub to hash out possibilities for Tony to advance his journey.

"You've done so well so far, and I don't think I've heard you complaining once about missing cheese or meat in the last few weeks," he said encouragingly during one such night out at _The Rogue Hen Pub_. "Give yourself more time. Everything will fall into place."

"I just don't know if I can do this anymore," Tony admitted. "I'm not as fit as I used to be, and I let things slide for far too long. Don't know how Gibbs put up with it if I'm honest."

Brad bumped his shoulder against Tony's. "Hey, stay positive. Actually, I think martial arts would suit you well and be just the thing to regain your cop cred. You already have pretty quick reflexes and you still know the basic moves. Why not give it a try? It's like riding a bicycle."

Sighing, Tony said, "I don't know if that'd be such a good idea. Gibbs would be pretty peeved if I got banged up during training and couldn't do my job properly."

"The banging up won't start for a while," Brad smirked, "but then again I thought you liked a challenge, DiNozzo. But if you'd rather cower in fear …"

"It's not fear when it's justified. Besides, my yoga girls would get jealous," Tony retorted and chuckled. "They already flip when I miss a class due to work. Apparently they fear for my safety. It's cute."

"You can always do both." Brad shrugged. "I'm doing yoga twice and jiujitsu once a week. It fits me well and I get out of jogging a couple of times a week."

Tony pondered this for a second. "Maybe you're right. I do have to get back in shape, badly. I'll see what courses I can find in my neighbourhood."

"Thanks. It'll let _me_ sleep better at night, too." Brad eyed him in a way that had Tony blushing inexplicably. "I'm proud of you, Tony, I really am. To see how well you're doing for yourself … it's a good feeling."

"Well, I have a good teacher," Tony replied and smiled a little shyly. "Thanks for kicking my ass when I need it. I don't know how to ever repay that favour."

"We'll think of something," Brad replied and winked. "Bottoms up. To even better health and a good life."

"Cheers!"

**End of part 4**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Thanks again for the reviews and favs! I'm humbled and overjoyed that some of you decided to give the movies and books a chance. _Forks Over Knives_ is actually one of my comfort movies, so knowing that readers out there are watching it as well is giving me the fuzzies :3

Oh, and this is still not betaed. Sorry about that.

* * *

**Part 5**

Tony immediately set to researching different types of martial arts and a couple of days later chose hapkido, a Korean martial arts style that focused on apprehending rather than doing actual harm, which went well with his work. He was lucky because two brothers taught it in a small backyeard dojo just down the street from his Whole Foods. He liked the grungy but comradely atmosphere and the clientele. Most of them were young, but there were two white, as-American-as-can-be grannies, both with a blue belt, that had him sold on sight.

Jin and Jun kept him right there for trial training and laughingly powered him out in the first fifteen minutes of their usual warm up. The grannies snickered and pinched his arse whenever Tony wasn't looking … which was often, since everybody else there was in better shape than him.

"Gibbs'll kill me," he groaned under his breath. Tony felt the mother of all muscle aches coming on; his arms were almost to weak to rise above his shoulders. "Holy fuck."

"It'll get better with time. See you next week," Jin said after the lesson and low-fived a heaving, grimacing Tony. "Drink pure coconut water, it's good for rehydration, man."

"I will, thanks."

Tony said his goodbyes, showered, changed, and then went home where he relaxed his sore muscles in a magnesium chloride bath and drank non-alcoholic beer while he listened to an audio-book.

Right now, he felt pretty damn satisfied with himself and couldn't wait to see where this would get him.

**oOo**

Soon after starting hapkido, a serial killer began kidnapping young, beautiful, and recently engaged petty officers, raping and torturing and finally publicly arranging them in morbid vintage scenarios. Their ring fingers were missing, the wounds carefully cleaned and hidden by lavish lace and colourful ribbons.

On these days out it was harder for Tony to downplay his food choices since they often didn't have time to stop for something to eat, but not as hard as he had first feared. It turned out that there was enough room and even a free plug for an electrical cooler in the back of the truck, and he filled it with either sandwiches, salads or other delicious things that could be eaten cold.

The first few times, Ziva and McGee had made so much fun of him, it bordered on harassment. Tony did not care about their opinion, but he did care about his lunch. The longer he adhered to his new lifestyle, the better his meals tasted to him. As a born hedonist, this development was nothing short of miraculous. The rest, he decided, was mere, if annoying, background noise.

"Why do you have a lock on your cooler?" Gibbs asked during a short break at the fourth of these chrime scenes and accepted the gluten free sandwich Tony offered him wordlessly. It was just salad, pickles and tofu cold cuts with a slice of vegan cheese, but he dug into it as if it were a deli pastrami panino. Tony wisely kept from pointing this little fact out to his boss.

"Ziva stole my lunch yesterday. Didn't leave me even one pepper stick," Tony grumbled between bites. "Not to mention paid for something I could've eaten later."

Gibbs sighed in annoyance. "When will you stop letting her run roughshot over you?"

"It's not a matter of letting her." Tony finished off his own sandwich and grabbed his thermos for a long sip of cooled green juice. "She's always been like this. It's only now that it's getting on my nerves. Don't know why I didn't realize it sooner."

"Because you weren't thinking with your upper head," Gibbs replied and delivered a light headslap. "If you want it to stop, you take care of it. Soon. I'm tired of seeing her brow-beating you."

Tony nodded resignedly. "Yes, boss."

"Good. When you're done here get back inside. Ducky might have news for us."

**oOo**

"Hey, Tony, can I ask you something?"

Tony raised his head from his examination of petty officer Sarah Highbrow's bruised ankles and looked at Jimmy, who was looking back at him solemnly. "Sure. What's up?"

He swallowed and lowered his voice. "Well, I, uh, wanted to ask you about your secret."

"My secret?" Puzzled, Tony tilted his head. "What secret?"

"Not really a secret, I guess, but well … Abby told me to ask you. The thing is, you're looking really good. Like photoshopped, actually."

"Uh, thanks?" Tony said after nothing more came forth. He felt flattered, but Jimmy's stuttering made him nervous. "What is this all about, autopsy gremlin?"

Jimmy fidgeted with his magnifying glass before spitting it out. "I feel like a complete loser," he blurted. "I'm married to a beautiful woman, and next to her, I'm invisible." He sighed. "Not that she doesn't deserve all the attention because she's awesome and wonderful. It's just … I want to be more, for her. I want to be someone she can look up to. I want to be strong for her. Help me?"

Tony looked into Palmer's pleading face, really looked, and suddenly felt like an asshole for keeping the other man at arm's length since their unexpected partnership during Gibbs's temporary retirement. It was easy to make fun of shy, awkward Jimmy, but people, himself included, forgot how much courage it took to face life with a personality like his.

"Breena adores you," he said sincerely and gave Jimmy his best smile. "She thinks you hung the moon and the stars. No need to be worried there. But why don't we grab lunch together tomorrow and you tell me what's really bothering you?"

"Really?" Jimmy brightened and smiled his adorable, joyful smile. "Thank you, Tony."

"Don't mention it."

The door to the autopsy opened and Ducky came in.

"Ah, Tony, thank you for waiting. It's always a nuisance when our printer decides to eat the paper. Abby was kind enough to lend us a hand. We'll look for further details, as usual, but this should be more than enough for a search warrant on the young man you've singled out."

"Thanks, Ducky. Jimmy." He nodded at them both and then jogged back up to the bullpen.

Back there, Ziva looked from Tony to the elevator and raised an eyebrow. "What happened? Is the elevator broken again?"

Tony handed Gibbs the report. "No, Zee-vaah, I just used the stairs for a change."

"And why? Did you meet a hot woman you want to impress?" She leered and looked him over. "I bet she makes you _really_ work for it, Tony. All these muscles, it's a good look on you."

"David!" Gibbs barked as he slammed down the receiver of his phone, effectively ending her teasing. "Take McGee and bring Jameson in! We got enough to hold him for questioning."

She jumped up and grabbed her gear. "On it, Gibbs!"

"DiNozzo, you get the warrant from legal. I want that bastard's house searched!"

"Yes, boss."

McGee followed Ziva to the elevator. He looked back at Tony, a confused frown etched onto his face. One could almost see the gears turning in his head. For someone so bright, McGee could be astoundingly slow.

Tony grinned broadly and gave him the thumbs-up. "Go get him, McCatch! I know you can do it!"

Gibbs glared at him and he immediately dropped his gaze and got busy.

So much for sympathy from the boss.

**Part 6**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine except the plot. The series and the mentioned books and movies belong to their respective owners. I don't make any money with this story.

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait. I've been away for training last week and only now have internet access again. Hopefully, you'll like the new chapter. Also, thank you for your reviews and the suggestions and wishes. Keep 'em coming :)

* * *

**Part 6**

As promised, Tony met Palmer for lunch and brought him to a restaurant that sold great, vegan pizza.

"This is my secret," he said and smiled about Jimmy's dumbfounded expression.

Jimmy's face looked comical as he showed his disbelief. "Pizza? Are you serious?"

"Yes, very. It's still a little on the fatty side, but no matter what you choose, there won't be any bad cholesterol, and everything is organic and fresh. It's my treat, so don't be shy. Choose whatever you like."

"Uhm, alright. Thank you." After some consideration, Jimmy ordered pizza Hawaii, a small salad, and freshly made lemonade.

Tony ordered the Vegetaria Speciale, tomato soup and a tall glass of water.

"So, how is eating pizza making you look like this?" Jimmy asked once the waitress was gone. "I mean, wow, even I know this'll sound weird, but you're actually kind of gorgeous. You were good-looking before, but now …"

"Thanks," Tony replied and smiled. "You're not so bad yourself, though. Working out much for your lady?"

Embarrassed, Jimmy laughed and stroked a hand over his nicely defined biceps. "I'm doing my best." Their drinks arrived and they both took a couple of sips. Once the glasses were back on their coasters, he continued, "It just doesn't feel like enough. I get tired easily and then I get depressed because I'm not giving it my best. I'm just not feeling _well_, if that makes sense. Breena's actually getting worried, so I thought I'd ask you before seeing my doctor."

To Tony, who had experienced quite a few rather spectacular momentsof mental clarity and physical improvements during his fast, knew exactly what Jimmy was talking about. He knew this kind of exhaustion himself, and had almost felt depressed at times because he'd been unable to shake it off.

"Maybe you should go see a good naturopath," he replied. "Have them do a blood test and the whole shebang. My doc told me that I was lacking a lot of nutrients and advised me to change my diet. Since then it's gotten way better. Energy's through the roof, actually. Even my lungs are getting better, and nobody thought _this_ could ever happen."

"Really? That's great!"

"Yeah, look, I know this sounds lame, but all you need is the right food. Veggies, fruit, legumes, you know what I mean." Tony chuckled ruefully. "Man, if I told my old self from last year what I'm doing now, he'd laugh himself silly. This pizza? You won't find any animal protein on it. Just cut out the processed bullshit, that's the real secret."

The waitress brought their starters and the pizza and so they dug in. Tony waited until the other man had taken a bite and declared it delicious, before he smirked.

"See? I told you that you'd like it." He breathed in the scent of his own pizza. It was full of every vegetable the kitchen had on offer, and he loved it. Tony took a piece of artichoke and popped it into his mouth. "Mmh, _delicioso_."

"Yes, this is really good!" Jimmy wolfed down a whole slice and sighed in satisfaction. "And not even the cheese is real?"

"Nope, it's all plant-based."

"Incredible. I thought Abby was having me on when she told me she suspected that you'd given up meat."

"I like it like that, actually. Less naysayers to bring you down."

Jimmy smiled slightly at that in understanding. While they ate, he asked many questions, but he especially wanted to know how he could get better quickly without having to wait for blood test results first.

"Buy a good juicer, look up recipes on the internet, and then get started," Tony said and sucked a bit tomato sauce from his fingers. "It's not so expensive. It's just the juicer in the beginning, but in the long run you'll buy less processed crap, so it all evens out."

He scrawled notes on a piece of paper and handed it over. "Maybe you should buy fresh juices here and there first, see how you like it and what it does for you. But if you do want to commit, I can recommend my juicer and these movies to get you motivated."

"Wow, thank you, Tony. I'll look it up as soon as I can." Jimmy put the paper away and smiled. "Say, can we get a juice now?"

Tony laughed, delighted with his friend's enthusiasm. "Of course!"

**oOo**

In the afternoon, Gibbs sent Tony down to Abby to get her latest results on the evidence they'd brought in from the suspect's apartment.

"Tony, Tony, Tony!" Abby cried excitedly and flung herself into his arms. He was barely able to put her new Caf-Pow! out of reach. "Jimmy told be about your lunch and I'm so, so proud of you!"

"Wha-whoa, why?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"You were nice, and you didn't make fun of him once," she explained and smacked a red kiss onto his cheek. "Oh, wow, you even _smell_ nice now. That is to say, even nicer than before, because I love your aftershave. Anyway, he told me about the juicing and I decided to join you both. Did you know that the nuns all do this? Reliciously, you could say, but that would be pithy, although this explains how they're all so fit and-"

"_Abby_!" Tony pleaded. "A bit more slowly, okay?"

She held both his hands in hers and jumped excitedly. "You're my new, favourite role-model. We can do juice parties, and lunch dates, and if you don't already have a pilates course, I could introduce you to mine-"

"Abby!" he groaned.

She closed her mouth and looked at him expectantly.

Tony smiled tolerantly, albeit a little weakly. "That all sounds great, but I've already joined a yoga class."

"Doesn't matter, as long as we can do the juice parties. _With_ movies," Abby replied dismissively.

"Okay, but can you do me a huge favour?"

"Of course. Anything for you, Tony."

"Could you keep this from the others, please? I told Jimmy that it's better not to have too many people in the know, in case they try to bring you down." He shrugged apologetically. "You know how competitive Ziva and McGee can be. I don't want this to be about the job. It's too important to me."

Abby's eyes narrowed, but she nodded. "It's not a problem. When I first went vegetarian, my parents were a little difficult, too. Your secret is safe with me."

Tony hugged her impulsively. "Thank you, my gorgeous queen of the dark."

A headslap hit him completely out of the blue. "Ow, sorry, boss."

"Gibbs!" Abby complained and smoothed over Tony's ruffled hair. "What was that for?"

"For wasting time when we have a killer to catch," Gibbs said and narrowed his eyes at the both of them. "What do you have, Abbs?"

She pouted. "I really shouldn't encourage this behaviour, but here you have it: the semen on the bed is definitely Jameson's and the vaginal fluid from the latest victim of the vintage killer. It proves the rape, but it doesn't yet prove that he is the killer. That guy can clean up, it's spooky. But thankfully, there's more. The bloody wood span particles from under Sarah Highbrow's nail are a perfect match for a certain kind of expensive hardwood flooring. And now you may guess who might have expensive hardwood floors in his second, just-turned-up apartment. Standard results aren't in yet, but bring me a sample and in a few hours the Wicked Witch of NCIS can tell you if she was killed on Jameson's property."

"I'll bring you more," Gibbs growled. "DiNozzo, with me. The scratched floorboard _must_ be loose, or else she probably wouldn't have bothered with just one deep mark on exactly one floorboard."

"Not to mention Jameson probably wouldn't have bothered cleaning her fingers so thoroughly if there isn't something to hide," Tony added, already on his way out.

They collected Ziva and McGee, took the truck, and descended like four avenging angels onto Jameson's apartment.

Gibbs broke the seal on the door and sent his team out to search every single floorboard for markings.

"Be thorough," he ordered. "I don't care how many of them we crack open. I want that evidence!"

A chorus of, "On it, boss!" sounded, and then they scattered.

Due to tiling, they could exclude the kitchen and the two bathrooms from their search. The den, which was Tony's area to investigate, didn't turn up anything. The floor looked new and was, apart from a few light scratches, practically flawless. After finding that out, he found Gibbs in the bedroom and helped him yank a rug out from under the metal-wrought bed.

"Vintage style," he commented. "And heavy as fuck. Of course."

Gibbs nodded irritably. "Why make it easy?" he growled. Finally they got the rug away and could get to going over the hardwood. "Here, a scratch," he said and knelt down. "McGee! The crowbar!"

McGee and Ziva came running and set to prying the marked plank away from the others. Tony shot pictures as they discovered what lay hidden beneath.

"Ugh, disgusting!" Ziva complained and reared back from the rotten smell. She took finger by finger from Gibbs and put them in sample boxes, quickly handing them off to Tony for labelling. McGee had begged off in favour of shooting the photos and Tony had let him - this once. "They even have the rings still on!"

"But he did a good job on their fingernails," Tony remarked as he watched one with blood red nails from all angles. "Means he manicured them before chopping the finger off."

"Sick," McGee muttered.

They cleaned out the space under the floorboard and took a sample of the wood. They then used luminol and black light to find otherwise invisible trace material and searched the rest of the apartment thoroughly for more hidden spaces. Thankfully their effort was fruitless, so they brought everything to Abby before taking a well-deserved break.

"I'm going for coffee," Tony offered once they had stowed their backpacks. His generous gesture wasn't entirely selfless; he craved a juice like nobody's business from the place a few streets down that happened to also sell good coffee. "What do you want?"

"Green tea, please," Ziva said.

"Black, two sugars," McGee added.

Gibbs, he didn't have to ask. Tony quickly left before someone could offer to accompany him. He chose to walk to let off some steam and drank a shot of wheat grass and apple juice right at the juice bar while he waited for his coffee order. He then took a second juice, this time honeydew mixed with apple, pear, lemon and mint, also in a paper coffee cup, and carried everything back to the yard.

"Took your sweet time, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he came jogging down from the stairs. "That mine?" He grabbed Tony's cup and took a large gulp before he could stop him.

"No, actually-" He faltered as he saw Gibbs's perplexed frown. "Yikes."

Gibbs smacked his lips. "Still got a sweet tooth, eh?" He gave the cup back and curled his fingers demandingly for his real coffee. "Wouldn't mind trying that one myself next time, though."

Flabbergasted, Tony stared after him. Ziva and McGee took their own coffees from the cup holder and smirked.

"If you run now, you might manage to get a new one," McGee snickered.

Tony looked at his watch, sighed, and then shrugged. "Nah, I'm not afraid of Gibbs's cooties."

Ziva laughed. "You're just too lazy, admit it."

"After this shit day? You bet I am." Tony made a show of slurping his drink. Louder, he asked, "When can we go home, boss?"

"Not until Abby's report is in," was the dry reply and they all sighed in response.

Despite their success, it was going to be yet another long night.

**End of part 2**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: Nothing except the plot is mine, you know the drill.

**A/N**: Merry belated Christmas to you all, and thank you for your wonderful reviews. I hope to pick up the pace again, now that the holidays are over. :)

* * *

**Part 7**

A week later, their evidence around the vintage killer was airtight and Ronald Jameson was shipped off to prison, where he would await his trial.

"Goodbye to bad rubbish," Tony said, dusting off his hands. "I can't wait to close the file."

For once, nobody contradicted him. After his treasure had been found, Jameson had divulged everything about the rapes and murders … in exhausting detail. Tony, who had had the lion's share of interrogating him together with Ziva, had left those sessions more than once a little green around the gills, and even his hardened ex-Mossad partner was visibly stunned about Jameson's depravity.

Jimmy came up the stairs and waved at Tony. "Hey, you still up for lunch? I heard your case was closed."

"I'd love nothing more," Tony replied. "Half an hour?"

"Sounds good. Can Abby come, too?"

"Can most birds fly?" Tony retorted and grinned.

Jimmy left and McGee promptly asked, "Where are you going?"

"Oh, just a new veggie place a couple of blocks down the yard, McNosy. I thought Abby would like it."

"But … you didn't know she would come with you until just now," McGee said.

Tony smirked. "Did you ever send her somewhere and she hated it, McClueless?" he asked. McGee grimaced, which was answer enough. "See, that's why I wanted to scout it out first."

"Good thinking, DiNozzo. I wish you would dedicate this much forethought to your reports," Gibbs said. He held out the offending sheaf of paper. "You can do better than this. I need more details."

Tony groaned. "Do I have to, boss? When it's nearly lunch time? If something's gonna put me off food, it's severed body parts."

Gibbs stared at him head on. "I want that red gone the next time I look at it." He raised an eyebrow.

Tony got the hint, got up and took the report from him. "Right after lunch," he promised, relieved. "And I'll do the filing for the day right away. Hey, that rhymed."

Ziva and McGee looked on with fascinated anticipation as Gibbs accepted the deal with nothing more than a quiet hum.

"I'll help!" Ziva blurted, hurried to Tony's desk and grabbed half of the stack that needed to be filed.

"Me, too!" McGee echoed and grabbed the other half.

Tony let himself be herded out of the bullpen, but not without a last grin at Gibbs. Surprisingly, the man didn't scowl. He merely chuckled and shook his head about their antics.

"Hey, DiNozzo!" he called after him. "You mind bringing me something back? Got a conference in MTAC later."

"Sure thing, bossman." Tony saluted easily and let the door fall closed behind himself.

**oOo**

Half an hour later, Tony gallantly opened the door to the restaurant for Abby and Jimmy.

"Here we are," he said. "Let's hope that this is as good as it looked online."

"The menu certainly looks good," Abby commented as she read the scribbled entries on the blackboard above the counter. "I think I'll have the roast potato and veggie dish. It's been too long since I had anything with _pesto rosso_."

Jimmy needed a little longer to decide. "I'll take the lasagna."

"Alright. Go find a table, I'll take care of our order. Juice of the day okay?"

Abby and Jimmy nodded and then claimed an empty table near the window. Since the place hadn't been here long, the absence of regulars meant that their food arrived shortly, together with frothy glasses of apple and carrot juice.

"Oh, this is good," Abby exclaimed after a long swallow. "Ginger, I love it."

She had a juistache and Tony laughingly dabbed it off her skin with his napkin. "I'm glad you like it."

Jimmy poked his fork through the melted pseudo-cheese top of his lasagna and grinned. "Still can't believe it. When I next come here, I'll ask Breena to join us."

"Oh, good idea. We really should get together more often." Abby slurped her juice down and poured water into her empty glass. "So, Tony, how much weight have you actually lost? Not that there was anything wrong with you except maybe that little belly, but now … wow. I want to grab your booty, Mister, and you're like a brother to me."

Tony preened a little and his friends laughed at the expected show of vanity. "A little over forty pounds. I'm working on building up muscle now."

"Forty pounds in almost four months, that's impressive." Abby grinned. "I only want to lose five or six. Then I can be the Barbie to your Ken, Tony."

"But how do you that, not eating meat or dairy?" Jimmy asked. Half of his lasagna and all of his salad was already gone. "I tried that for a couple of days, but I was always hungry."

"So? Simply eat more," Tony shrugged. "That's the good thing about it. You can always snack something and you never have to feel bad about it." He leaned forward and grinned conspirationally. "Last week, I bought a couple pints of coconut ice cream. De-li-cious! You should try it sometime if you haven't already."

Abby squealed. "Coconut ice cream! How could I _miss_ this? This means shopping tonight!"

They dug into their food and praised it throughout the meal. The salads were leafy and very fresh, the food hot, seasoned just right, and enough to satisfy even Jimmys large appetite. For dessert they discovered to their delight that the restaurant actually had the brand of coconut ice cream Tony preferred, and so they all ordered a sundae and spent a good ten minutes in bliss.

"I love this place," Abby declared. "But who's rolling me back to my lab now?"

Tony grinned. "I'll help, but first I'll have to buy something for Gibbs."

"Here?" Abby asked dubiously.

"Yes, I know, but there's just no way I'm spending money on the crap he usually eats."

Together, they chose a double portion of veggie and tofu lasagna. Jimmy assured them that it tasted just like the real thing, and if they distracted Gibbs with a hated salad, he wouldn't notice the difference.

"Gibbs notices _everything_," Tony said doubtfully.

"He's Gibbs, after all," Abby added cheerfully. They grinned. "But he will eat it anyway because I've seen his schedule for today, and it isn't pretty. He'll do."

"Why? I thought the case was closed?"

"It is, gremlin, but Vance needs Gibbs for a _situation_ in Afghanistan." He made air quotations with his fingers. "And even if Gibbs weren't chained to the screen in MTAC, this creep Jameson will keep us all busy for a while yet because he likes to talk. And I hope he'll talk some more, because his motive sounded kinda off," Tony explained. "We all think he'll talk in curt, too, and nauseate the jury. Maybe Ducky will even let you testify. One of these days he'll _have_ to send you."

"Uhm, that'd be great," Jimmy admitted, a little flustered. "But Dr. Mallard did do most of the work. If there's any glory to be had, it's his."

"Don't be shy," Abby chirped. "After all, you found the wood particles under her finger, and you made the connection between her hair dye and that shop close to his apartment."

"Only because Breena had her hair done there once."

"You think our work as agents is all about knowledge? Good lord, if I counted the times when one of us went with our instincts instead of hard evidence, half of us would be dead, and the other half out of a job." Tony shook his head. "You did good, gremlin, so don't put yourself down."

Abby smooched a fat, red kiss onto Jimmy's cheek and giggled about his blush. "Your time will come, Jimmy."

The service girl handed Tony the packaged lasagna and salad and graced him with a flirtatious smile.

"You'll be back soon, right?" she asked and provocatively bit off the end a cucumber stick.

Tony gave her a friendly once-over and smiled back. "Sure I will, as long as you save me some of that."

She popped the rest of the stick into her mouth and winked. "It had better be _very_ soon, then."

"Okay, enough of that," Abby said and grabbed Tony by the arm. "Feed Gibbs first, lover boy."

And that was what Tony did when he returned to the bullpen ten minutes later. Ziva and McGee weren't back yet, both having been sent on a coffee run. In the blessed silence, Tony gave Gibbs the paper bag and busied himself with his report, surreptiously watching him as he took the food out and began eating without warming it up first.

As expected, Gibbs avoided the salad altogether and dug right into the lasagna.

"What, DiNozzo?" he asked testily after a few bites. "You spit on it or something?"

"Nah, I'm just glad you're not throwing it at me," Tony replied easily. "Although … if you don't like the salad, maybe I could …"

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs shoved the cardboard container towards the edge of his desk. "Next time, don't bother."

"Sure thing, boss." Tony snagged the salad and retreated behind his desk. They ate in silence for a while. "By the way, would it be okay to leave early today?"

Gibbs looked up, the fork with his next bite raised halfway to his mouth. "Why?"

"Got a date lined up. Dinner's around six."

"Not exactly romantic, is it?" Gibbs replied warily.

Shrugging, Tony stuffed the last bite of salad into his mouth and tossed the container into the bin. "Not sure I want it to be romantic."

"Alright, but I want that report before you leave," Gibbs relented. He hesitated for a moment. "And the name of the place where you got lunch. Seems like I'll be here late into the night."

"I could stay," Tony offered. "If I've got the security clearance, of course."

But Gibbs just sighed. "And miss your date? Forget it. It's way above both of our pay grades anyway, Tony, but thanks. Vance and I will be glad to shuffle that mess over to the feebs, soon."

"Fornell?"

"Not this time."

Tony cringed. "My condolences."

"Someone has to do it." Shoving the last of the lasagna into his mouth, Gibbs got up. "Dispatch knows not to call, but if something comes up, take Ziva and McGee in hand. I'll be gone for the rest of the day."

"Yep." Tony swivelled in his chair, following Gibbs's path through their office space and up the stairs. "Have fun!"

**End of part 7**


End file.
